Saving Prince Charming

Before the Storm (Mute).

It was like being pulled apart, or burning alive, yet somehow ice cold, and maybe this is what Jesus felt like on the fucking cross, but all he really knew was that this was pain. And lots of it.

He was vaguely aware of someone calling his name, and after a while, two someones, but they both paled in comparison to the call he was feeling from the Darkness now consuming him.

Come here.

Here, you’ll be wanted

Here’s the oblivion you’ve always always wished for

You can stop being such a  d i s a p p o i n t m e n t  here—   

There was water slipping down his face and seeping into his hoodie.

“Anxiety? Anxiety, thank god, his eyes are focusing. Okay. Okay.”

And oh, that was Logic, his friend, his only friend, and he knew that because he was smiling at him [he was the only one who ever did] and his purple tie was tickling at his neck, and wow, was that Prince sitting next to him? Looking worried?

Nah, it must just be the illness. He looks sick, not worried, what a silly thought that was.

“Logic? What happened?” Anxiety mumbled, still dazed.

“You’re asking me? I should be asking you!” Logic held his hands up to his mouth, stifling a hysterical huff of not-laughter. Prince raised an eyebrow at him, seemingly puzzled by his display.

“I told you: I took his hand, and… this just happened! I’m not sure how!”

“And I’m telling you: I don’t buy it! That was probably one of his worst attacks ever, and you—”

“It wasn’t an attack.”

“An attack?”

Prince and Anxiety spoke at the same time, but Logic ignored the so-called royal in favor of the darker trait, nearly outright ignoring him.

“Then what was it?”

“It wasn’t Prince. But it… came from him? Or, not from him, but.” Anxiety’s eyes were creeping ever wider, and he abruptly shot up, causing many of his under-used joints to creak. He sprinted from the room, not even bothering to sink, because. He knew where he was going, he could feel the faint pull, and besides, there wasn’t a personality anywhere that didn’t know the location of this place by heart.

“Anxiety? Anxiety, wait up!”

But he didn’t stop, not until he got to the huge oaken door that none of them have seen for years. Its golden handle was rusty, but the hinges still gleamed, keeping the secrets inside safe and the thoughts of the traits out.

There was a name carved on the door.

Thomas.

“Anxiety, what are you doing? We’re not supposed to—”

He opened the door, the one that had been sealed so tightly for so long.

*

The room hadn’t changed much since he last saw it. Its walls were still a breathtaking shade of white, as were the marble-esque floors. The light was still dazzling.

But he supposed it was very different, because he doesn’t remember seeing a pulsating black hole the last time he was here, either.

It was at the center of the circular space, hovering just above the ground. It was spherical and it crackled with purplish-black energy.

“What in the world?” Logic was beside him now, and they stared at the great monstrosity together.

“I don’t know.” Anxiety admits, eyes glazing over. “All I know is that it hurts. And that it’s in the Prince somehow.”

“Then that’s what’s causing the sickness. If we find a way to get rid of it, then this nightmare will be—”

“Over, yeah. I just don’t know how we’ll get rid of it.” Anxiety rubs at his temples. “I really don’t like the feel of this place. Can we go now, or do you need to analyze it a bit more?  

No answer.

“Logic, come on, I know this is a shocking moment but let’s go.”

When he finally turns to face him, he’s confronted with the sight of his best friend gripping at his throat, tears rolling down his face. He’s making shapes with his mouth, but no sound comes out, when a sob wracks him it does so silently.

“Logic?”

Logic directs his face towards Anxiety (whose horror was written on his face for all to see), and he tried to say something. He failed.

But that’s okay. Anxiety could read his lips [even wavering as they were, even when Logic himself was trembling like a leaf—].

i can’t speak.

help.

They were not okay.

*

It stole the life force from Prince.

For Morality, the deep emotion, it did the same.

But Logic?

It stole his voice.

(And it takes and it takes and it takes—)